


News from the Front

by Hesesols



Series: Eclipse [25]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Don't Examine This Too Closely, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Crack, Ichigo goes on a crime spree, In which there is a crime, New headcanons for me and my fam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hesesols/pseuds/Hesesols
Summary: Day2ofIIHWE 2020: It is the wedding of the century but wedding-goers soon find themselves lost for words when someone boldly kidnaps the beloved bride and makes away with her on the morning of the wedding. No one, least of all Byakuya saw this coming.Truly.
Relationships: Kuchiki Rukia/Kurosaki Ichigo, Kurosaki Isshin & Kuchiki Byakuya
Series: Eclipse [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757437
Comments: 19
Kudos: 50
Collections: International Ichiruki Hentai Fest





	News from the Front

**.**

**Seireitei Communications**

**Breaking NEWS!**

**Wedding of the Century Turns into Scene of Crime?**

**.**

Editor: Hisagi Shuuhei

**.**

It was to be the wedding of the century, a wedding of much grandeur and opulence, the likes of which Soul Society may never see again, for our very own Abarai Renji (the author of _Let's Do Shikai,_ and frequent contributor to the magazine) and Kuchiki Rukia (scion of the Kuchiki clan, the newly-minted Thirteenth Division Captain).

Preparations have been underway months ago. The Kuchiki clan leader, the esteemed Kuchiki Byakuya spared no expenses in lavishing his only sister with the wedding of her dreams, importing goods and incorporating technologies from the Living World for the occasion- including something called an 'eye-phone', a device rumoured to be on par with our own _denreishinki,_ only with what many are claiming to be a cooler, 'sexier' design. _(Ahem, take note Captain Kurotsuchi!)_

The road to love and happiness has not been easy for the two lovebirds. The soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Abarai are childhood best friends ( _see page 4 for an exclusive interview with Abarai Renji on growing up on the streets of Inuzuri_ ) who grew up destitute and penniless as street orphans before entering the Academy together. As students, they drifted apart due to Rukia's adoption into the Kuchiki clan ( _see page 6 for a special feature on_ _Kuchiki Rukia- Heroine of the Thousand Year Blood War_ _)_ , but Renji has never forgotten about his childhood sweetheart.

He jumped at the chance of retrieving her from the Living World, accompanying his Captain (and future brother-in-law) on the mission where it was discovered that Rukia has committed felony and broken taboo by transferring her powers to a human, Kurosaki Ichigo ( _see page 9 for further discussion as experts weigh in on the Substitute Shinigami's mixed parentage and genetic makeup:_ _Is this Ryoka of Noble Stock?_ ), who is unbeknownst to all then, the son of Shiba Isshin (ex-Captain of Tenth Division and now, the very recently reinstated Shiba patriarch after much insistence from his younger relatives).

With a little bit of push from the right directions and help from a fiery bird of death, their friendship is rekindled. In time, fate proves once again that the age-old story of childhood best friends blossoming into something more is indeed a tried and true recipe for romance. And the rest, my dear readers, is history.

For many, the wedding was a much-needed sign that the worst was finally over. Seireitei, and much of Soul Society, was finally ready to be remade into something brighter and better and begin anew. It filled us with much hope and many were eager to be part of history in the making. On the morning of the special day, many, much like yours truly, were up before dawn, hoping to catch the bride and groom in their wedding fineries and offer well wishes on the upcoming nuptials. We awaited with bated breath _en masse_ for the joyous ceremony.

Yet the bridesmaids and close family members were scandalized to say the least, of the crime that took place in the bride's private chambers right before their eyes, minutes before the wedding itself is scheduled to take place.

Eyewitnesses claimed to have seen a man with black hair, bearing an eerie resemblance to the late Shiba Kaien climbing through the window, throwing the Kuchiki bride over his shoulders before making away with her. They were gone before anyone had the presence of mind to alert the guards or draw their swords.

As the groom, Renji was in a separate room when the incident took place and naturally distraught when he received the news. He has since then vowed to find his bride and return her to safety. Close sources say that he has already started training for the arduous task ahead, to which, we can only wish him the best of luck for the journey is sure to be perilous.

This is a sudden turn of events that no one could have seen it coming. The identity of the kidnapper eludes us, but due to the physical resemblance to the late Vice-Captain, many seem to think that the two are related. Others seem to be of the opinion that the kidnapper is none other than the Vice-Captain himself, risen from the dead due to unfinished business. Could there in fact have been some kernels of truth after all, in the unsavoury rumours of a love affair between the then-married Shiba Kaien and his Kuchiki protégé ( _see page 11 as we delve deep to re-examine the nature of the close relationship of the two in_ _The Kuchiki-Shiba Connection: What Goes on Behind Closed Doors?_ )?

Neither the Kuchiki clan leader nor the Shiba patriarch can be reached for a comment and no official statements regarding the stance of both families has been issued at the time of writing.

The Seireitei Communications welcomes all anonymous tips on the possible whereabouts of the kidnapped bride and her captor. Who do you think kidnapped Kuchiki Rukia and more importantly, why?

P.S. A re-enactment of the famous Sokyouku Hill rescue scene is being organized by the Shinigami's Women Association (SWA) and the famous Seireitei Acting Troupe (SAT) next month to commemorate the fifth year anniversary of the Ryoka Invasion. Tickets are out for sale now, so don't miss out!

.

.

* * *

.

.

"This is all going according to plan!" declares Isshin enthusiastically.

His loud boisterous laughter is grating on the nerves and Byakuya feels his eye twitching as his grip on the tea cup tightens. His slate grey eyes narrow with much contempt at the chortling man sitting across the table, aristocratic features wrinkling at the smell of alcohol coming his way. It is barely noon but Byakuya wouldn't be surprised if it turns out that Shiba Isshin is already drunk.

Byakuya can feel a headache brewing. His morning has been disastrous.

He was more than a little hesitant when the older noble approached him months ago to enlist his help in the so-called Operation: Get the Idiot Son and Third Daughter Together!. It is unlike him to meddle in the affairs of his sister, especially when Rukia has already said yes to Renji's proposal.

Love comes in many forms. While the one between Renji and Rukia may not be of true love, it at the very least speaks of companionship and a familiarity that borders on familial. Rukia can learn to be happy with him and as her brother, he should respect her wishes.

The change of heart comes unexpectedly when his attention is brought to the secret stash of letters Rukia ordered to be burnt. The maid is right to be concerned. The letters are bundled and thick. Some are shorter than others, strewn with artistic masterpieces of rabbits and sketches of other lively animals, sometimes featuring barely three lines of random musings, of her daily life in Seireitei and sudden longing for something inconsequential from the Living World.

All handwritten but never sent, unsigned and unaddressed but Byakuya knows pining when he sees it. The closet romantic in him stirs under the weight of her repressed feelings. Hisana will never forgive him if he lets the wedding take place knowing what he knows now.

He sends a hell butterfly back to Isshin the next morning. He is (reluctantly) in on Operation: Get the Idiot Son and Third Daughter Together! but suggests that a name change to Operation: _Quell Thy Pining Hearts_ will be more appropriate, and much more _erudite._

At the end of the day, it is very much a question of taste and it is clear to see that not _everyone_ (cue another barely concealed attempt at side-eying his collaborator)has them.

Nonetheless Isshin swears on the grave of his beloved wife that the plan will work. The older man is confident that his idiot son will sort himself out and realize his feelings for Rukia before the wedding actually takes place, so the plan **was** to make it seem like the wedding is going to go ahead anyway. Knowing the rash tendencies of the boy to make a scene, Byakuya expected a last-minute gate-crashing into the wedding reception, a heartfelt confession five minutes before the bride and groom's san-san-kudo exchange maybe; anything but _this!_

At no point during his meetings with Isshin was the word 'kidnapping' ever mentioned. Yet now, Rukia is missing and the Kuchiki elders are out for blood. They see the crime as a grievous slight and open affront to the clan's honour and good name. They want to see the kidnapper publically executed for his crimes and it has taken everything he can to hold them off.

 _Nothing_ has gone according to plan.

He should have never agreed to be part of this hare-brained scheme. He should have known that nothing, absolutely _nothing_ good can come out from collaborating with a degenerate like Isshin who at the moment still seems to be lost on cloud nine, spewing tirades about how cute his imaginary grandbabies are going to be.

Byakuya resists the urge to snort and points out rather dryly to the older man that one should not count their chickens before they hatch.

There will be **no** 'baby-making' activities until his beloved sister is lawfully wed. In fact the noble has half the mind to wring the boy's neck when he gets hold of him. What in the world is he thinking and where did he get the idea of kidnapping the bride, on her wedding day no less? It is almost as if—

Byakuya's eyes narrow and the temperature of the room plummets.

"Did you put him up to it?"

Isshin's lips curve into a sly grin as he whispers conspiratorially, "Well now I can't take _all_ the credit. I may have offered _a few_ words of encouragement."

Byakuya is far from convinced of the other man's innocence. Isshin is at the core of it, a noble. All nobles are crafty, received education on the art of persuasion to a degree. The boy is hot-headed and brash. Isshin would know his spawn best, including how to manipulate him. "What did you say to him?"

"Oh only that a man has to be strong enough to fight to keep what he knows as his and if he isn't happy with the situation now, he should work hard to change it."

The shit-eating grin on Isshin's face is a dead giveaway. Byakuya has a nasty suspicion that he is being played. The thought of being out-manoeuvred by a Shiba does not sit well with him.

"Shiba," his voice rings low and deadly, all pretence of civility gone, " _what did you do?"_

"I may have left a book on Soul Society traditions and customs lying somewhere on the table, which may or may not have been left open on the chapter of marriage laws and wedding customs. But the boy came to the idea all on his own! Came up with the idea of a disguise too! I guess he does take after his old man after all!"

Byakuya's rage burns silent and deadly. He should have known.

His pride stung but more than that, the _audacity_ of that brat who thinks he can just steal his sister away in front of all those people, including the Kuchiki security task force. He can feel his hackles rising, his fingers inching towards Senbonzakura. Did he honestly think that Byakuya is just going to sit idly by as it happened?

"You let your son think that _this_ is an acceptable behaviour? Does he even know the implications of it? Or how out-dated and barbaric bride-napping is?!"

The archaic practice is a relic of the past, practiced in the lawless days of much civil unrest, when words and consent didn't matter. The strong takes, the weak bends. The groom steals himself a wife and to ensure that he would suffer no reprisal from her angry relatives infuriated by the theft, takes her into hiding with him, only re-emerging when he knows his claim on her is absolute and irrefutable.

Seireitei customs favours the bold and the strong, echoing the sentiments of their military governance and the mind-set of battle-hardened warriors being put into positions of power. Not unlike the ascendancy into captaincy by combat in the Eleventh Division, customs and practices like bride-napping though defunct are still enshrined within their society's law, and the legitimacy of marriages resulting from it, equally so. The law is clear and no one knows it better than the head of the Kuchiki clan. The marriages are considered legal and binding if it is consummated with a child born from the union as proof.

The upper echelons of society find the practice distasteful and would never dream of having it enforced. The chaos generated from the dishonour and indignity would have been disastrous, leading to many _many_ unnecessary blood feuds and clan wars. But Isshin and his ilk have always been a rare breed and Byakuya strongly suspects that his time in exile in the Living World has only made his disregard of noble's etiquette even more flagrant.

This is definitely not part of the plan!

"Have you finally lost your mind?" he hisses, "This is exactly the sort of thing that could lead to a thousand-year blood feud between the Kuchiki and the Shiba clans!"

"Oh but Byakuya-kun! No one knows that it's my idiot son! No one recognized him under the disguise he used! Have you read the papers this morning? There's even a mention of it in the special edition of Seireitei Comms! No one suspected a thing!"

Isshin roars with gleeful laughter. "My son is a genius! Masaki would have been so _proud!_ "

The younger noble feels like shaking Isshin by his shoulders, cracking open his skull just to see what he has for brains. He can't possibly be serious!

What disguise?

Did Isshin seriously think everyone is as dumb as he is?

One would have to be truly blind to not realize that the kidnapper is really just Kurosaki Ichigo with his hair dyed black!

An idiot, thinks Byakuya bitterly, his co-conspirator is an idiot and the apple truly doesn't fall far from the tree. Rukia is going to have her hands full.

As if unaware of the waves of killing intent being sent his way, Isshin turns to give him a thumb-up, cheerfully exclaiming, "And even if they find out, we just have to play our cards right! We need to put a positive spin on things. Call it an elopement! The public will love it and eat it up and all the unpleasantness of poor Renji-kun left at the altar and bride-napping will be behind us. You'll see! It'll be like Romeo and Juliet, minus the dying!"

"Where are they?" Byakuya demands coldly.

Bride-napping has no place in the society that they live in and he needs to find Rukia now. The boy can live out the rest of his life as a eunuch, he has already decided as much.

Isshin scratches at the back of his neck and rather sheepishly admits, "I don't know. I gave Ichigo my credit card and told him to go wild with it—" he gives a careless shrug –"they could be anywhere in the Living World by now."

"I see."

Then—

" _Bankai!_ "

" _ **KYAAA!**_ Byakuya-kun! Watch the face, not the face!"

.

.

.

_Meanwhile…_

_._

The strange tenseness between them grows as the silence stretches on and Ichigo shunpoes through the Senkaimon with her in tow.

Rukia's fury is icy cold and barely contained. It shows in the tight set of her jaw, her furrowed eyebrows and her white-knuckled fists, nails digging deep into her palms that they are almost bleeding. The way she has been glaring at her captor is fierce enough to bore holes through him. But Ichigo shrugs it off like a pro, ignoring her glowering and vehement protests with practised ease.

And when she starts squirming and kicking at him, he merely tightens his grip on her midsection, shifting so she is tucked under his arm in a hold reminiscent of the stance he used when he rescued her on Sokyouku Hill so her legs can't reach him, giving a silent warning by way of the sharp look he sends her.

_Behave!_

The nerve!

The idiot hasn't spoken a word to her since he dropped in unannounced through the window, grabbing her unceremoniously by the waist, throwing her over his shoulders and making off with her as though she weighed no more than a sack of rice.

Her anger simmers and boils at the manhandling, but a Kuchiki knows when to pick her battles. Ichigo thought things through this time and he has help. The absence of the Dangai as they transverse between the two realms means that there are people in Seireitei facilitating his escape. Scowling, Rukia begrudgingly quiets down, going limp in his arms when it becomes apparent that her kicks and screams are not going to deter her captor by the slightest.

At length, she senses an end to their journey in the dark, squinting at the faint lights up ahead. There is a sudden _'whoosh!'_ as the shoji doors slide open to signal their arrival. Cold air rushes right through her, tearing at her hair and the ends of her wedding kimono as they land in a modern city with bright lights and colourful displays.

Time passes differently in the two realms and Rukia has no way of telling at first glance the time and date when they exited. But night has fallen by then. Violet eyes dart at her new surroundings with interest, frowning when she realizes that the street signs are written in a language she barely understands and the exciting din of human chatter, accented and exotic.

They are not in Karakura, or Japan for that matter.

Nervousness grips at her. Just where in the world are they?

She shivers at the sudden chill. Ichigo takes note of it, pulling her body closer and shifting his hold on her so she is now being cradled in his arms. The tip of her nose is a hairsbreadth away from his collarbone as she leans into his warmth. His body heat is welcomed respite from the cold and she thinks nothing of the instinctive need to draw close. Ichigo stares ahead blankly and doesn't comment on the close proximity between them as he makes his way deeper into the foreign city.

He seems to have a destination in mind as they weave through rooftops and skyscrapers, unseen by the many humans hustling and bustling at street level. Eventually, they stop, standing in front of a reception desk of what seems to be a very grand hotel.

She sneaks a glance at Ichigo then, noting the sudden tightening of his grip on her and a strange flush settling high on his cheeks before he gulps, seemingly coming to a decision as he inches forward, making his way behind the desk, swiping a key card from the unsuspecting concierge, wholly unaware of the two Shinigamis right in front of him.

Rukia narrows her eyes, a retort at the tip of her tongue about how he seems to be on a crime-spree. But ultimately decides against it when she sees the steadfast way Ichigo is avoiding her eyes. She huffs, letting herself be carried away as they enter the elevators.

They stop at the top floor. The key card easily unlocks the double-panel doors to a suite that is much larger and luxurious than what Rukia has ever envisioned as the lights flicker on.

The kidnapped bride glances around her new surroundings in amazement, noting the draperies, the modern amenities, including that of the huge flat screen TV mounted on the wall and the Jacuzzi bath tub she spies behind the slightly ajar bathroom door, and finally, the bed— four-poster and huge, strewn with pillows of every size imaginable.

The cream-coloured satin sheets look soft and inviting under the dim lights, making her yawn, suddenly eager to shrug off her shiromuku and crawl into bed. The wedding preparations were tedious and she barely slept the night before.

But she is not one to be easily distracted. First, she needs answers. She knows Ichigo. The idiot is brash, hot-headed and stubborn- the sort of person to shoot first and ask questions later. He may look like a thug or teenage delinquent but Rukia knows his heart is in the right place.

This- the kidnapping, the escape from Soul Society, all of it; it just isn't like him at all. She is trying hard not to be suspicious of her nakama even when everything that has happened thus far reeks of premeditation and levels of planning that borders on diabolical genius. Even the theft of the key card- she is starting to suspect that Ichigo knew _exactly_ which one to swipe from the reception earlier. Everything is blending too well and seamless to be just a mere coincidence.

What is going on?

She tilts her head up at Ichigo as he gently deposits her on the bed, wondering not for the first time since they made their way into the Human World; just what was it that he hoped to achieve by kidnapping her and hiding out in a hotel room.

This charade- her feigned compliance has gone on for far too long and now that they are finally alone with no imminent threats heading their way, Rukia demands her answers. She may look meek but she is a warrior at heart and it would be foolish to underestimate her just because she is in a wedding kimono.

Without skipping a beat, she launches a full-powered kick to his shins and Ichigo bears the brunt of it, yelping at the sudden burst of pain.

" _What the hell were you thinking?"_

Ichigo winces at the loud screech, scowling fiercely. But Rukia is far from done.

"You have some explaining to do, Ichigo. Why did you bring me here? And why did you dye your hair black?"

"It's a disguise," he informs her with a sullen pout, hand rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck as he avoids her gaze.

Rukia gulps, finally getting a good look at him for the first time that day. Whoever it was who did the dye job did it well. The black dye sunk into the roots of his hair, viciously blotting out any traces of the original orange vibrancy. The sight of him with his hair wild, bangs covering his eyes, the ends of it long enough to tease at his nape is unsettling. Not because of his resemblance to Kaien-dono, the dread that fills her heart is another sort of pain entirely.

Her mind traitorously whispers _Mugetsu,_ and she free-falls into the pit of helpless despair. She remembers seventeen months of catatonic limbo, barely sleeping, barely living, the pain of yearning, being close enough to touch but knowing that her touch will merely pass through him. She remembers the look of pain in his eyes, the way his hand falls limp by his sides, nails digging deep into his palms at his own inability to reach out and see the world he once shared with her.

Once is already more than enough.

Seeing him like this hurts. Bundled letters- one for every day of the seventeen months they spend apart, swords through the heart— those things are a paltry reflection of her love and affection, the depth of her feelings for him. The true weight of her emotions— her hands fist at the snowy white kimono, is heavy enough that it overwhelms her just by the thought of it. She is willing to die for him, to do anything and give him everything that is in her power to give if it means that he will finally have a reason to smile and be happy.

Yet, he can't be hers. Not if she truly loves him.

.

Rukia snorts. "What disguise? Did you honestly think you had anyone fooled just by dying your hair black?"

He growls, "Shut up! It worked. I mean- no one called me Ichigo as we made our way out from the Kuchiki Manor!"

The wedding— she blanches. She forgot about the wedding. What is everyone going to think now? How is she going to explain this?

"Ichigo, this is wrong. You have to take me back! We can't just leave them like that. We have to go back and fix things. Renji—"

"Like hell we are!"

Ichigo's vision bleeds red at the mention of her groom. The red-head may have been a friend and friends share but not when it comes to Rukia. The thought of his Rukia lying beside someone else in bed, sliding her fingers through someone else's hair and becoming mother to someone else's children— there is a surge of violence flooding through his veins, scleras threatening to turn dark as amber eyes burn golden.

"Why did you say yes to him?"

He thought Rukia wanted the same things as him. Rukia knows him, reads him from just the twitch of his eyebrow and the false smiles he gives. They have never needed words to express their care for each other. They are more than just nakamas. They are literal soul mates, bound and knotted in red strings of fate since their first meeting together.

Anyone who can't see the love he has for her, the way she is always on his mind, even in the heat of battle, attuned to the ebb and flow of her reiatsu like it was his own; how her attention darts to him in a crowd full of people, her smirk knowing and eyes dancing— they might as well be blind.

Maybe it is his fault for never communicating his feelings to her, but it is still not too late. His father is right for once and Ichigo's resolve has never burned stronger. He can still change things. He refuses to think that there is any universe out there where Rukia would willingly betray him.

"Did he force you into it? Did Byakuya or the stupid Kuchiki elders force you into this?"

Rukia shakes her head. "No one forced me into anything. I said yes because I wanted to. I love Renji and I want to marry him—"

"Stop lying to yourself, Rukia! Part of you is relieved that there is no wedding and you know it. You are relieved that you don't have to be there and lie to his face when the priest bids you to recite your vows to each other. Face it— you don't love him! Not like that."

_Not like the way you love me._

_._

She is weak for the way his brown eyes melt her down, stripping away at her hollow lies until she is forced to admit the truth.

Ichigo is right. There is a part of her that feels relieved at not having to be there, facing all those people as she exchanges cups of sake with Renji. She lied to him. She can't give him what he wants.

"You bastard!" she growls, going on the defensive, "What gives you the right to make such accusations? You ignored me when I came to visit, wouldn't even tell me you were going to university to major in English and then out of the blue you decide to kidnap me? On my wedding day? Thinking that I was blackmailed into it?"

Her bony finger pokes sharply at his chest as she glares daggers at him, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"You thought I was _ignoring_ you?"

She sniffs. "What else would you call it, Ichigo? Right after the War, I took time off just to visit you in the Human World, but you always made excuses about how you had to study and how busy you were so you can't spend time with me."

"That's because I _was_ busy studying. I was trying to pass the university entrance exams for Todai! I worked my butt off for it. And we did hang out, Miss Gold Fish Memory! I accompanied you on your morning runs when I could have spent the time in bed, sleeping. Please tell me you didn't say yes to Renji's proposal just because you thought I was ignoring you."

"Of course not! What sort of woman do you take me for?"

He deadpans, "A jealous one."

Rukia's face colours, bristling, "Well I am not! I couldn't care less about how or who you spend your time with!"

"You were literally just complaining about how I was 'ignoring' you seconds ago."

His smirk is annoying on _so_ many levels, especially the way it tugs at her heartstrings and makes a woman out of her battle-hardened sensibilities.

"S-Shut up!"

"Gladly," he quips, "there's something I would much rather be doing anyway."

And before she can even react, sinewy arms snake at her, bringing her body close to his and locking their lips together as he tumbles onto the bed with her.

Her heart feels full whenever she is with Ichigo. Even if it means doing mundane chores like grocery shopping or house cleaning, watching TV until one of them falls asleep— she will gladly waste her time with him doing nothing at all.

Kissing Ichigo though changes things. She wraps her arms around his neck, their limbs coiling around each other. His breath is hot and warm against her. The tip of their noses brushing, the press of his lips against hers, soft and needy—

She moans, curling her hands into his dark hair, eager for more of his delicious heat, to feel the slide and warmth of his skin as they touch. This is something she realizes, she would much rather be doing too. To think that they wasted all that time fighting when they could have made much better use of it. They could have had _this_.

She sighs, melting against him, parting her lips as their tongues delve and curl at each other. The spark in her ignites, heat pooling low as he sucks at her lower lip, teeth scraping heated skin, lips melding over and over again until she thinks she has memorised the pressure and warmth of his kisses on her. It feels like they have already done this hundreds of times and she almost wishes they had.

This would have been a _much_ more satisfying end to their heated bickering sessions.

Now- it's too late.

"S-Stop!"

Her lungs burned from the need for oxygen. Tears gather on her eyelashes. This isn't fair. This new high that Ichigo brings forth, she will only be made more devastated in the aftermath, wretched and ruined because she will now have to live on without it.

"We can't."

She shoves weakly at him, but Ichigo refuses to budge, cradling her body in his arms as they break apart for air. Chest heaving, his voice is unbearably soft as he presses butterfly kisses along her neck, whispering into her ear, "Why not, Rukia?"

She shudders at the closeness of him, stuttering as she replies, "W-Well because we're nakama! We're nakama- best friends till the end. Why would you be—"

He barks out a spurt of mirthless hollow laughter.

"Rukia," his lips dip low to hover teasingly above hers, "I don't know what world you live in, midget. But friends, even best friends and nakama don't kiss each other like that."

He presses the full length of himself against hers, grounding his hips to let his clothed bulge tease against the softness of her inner thighs as the gap in her kimono peeks.

"Is _this_ explanation enough?"

His tone is teasing, hot air fanning her pink cheeks as Rukia grits her teeth at the friction. Since when has he gotten so shameless?

"I love you—" His much larger hands cup at her face and she thinks her hammering heart might give out soon from the swell of emotions. She doesn't fight him when he tugs her back into his arms, the spill of their black hair pooling and twining over the bedsheets. Her heart is on the verge of breaking, crying out in earnest.

_I love you too._

.

"Well you can't! I am already promised to Renji. You can't."

"But we both know that you don't love Renji. Rukia—" He slides his fingers through her hair, kissing away the tears that roll down her cheeks. His brown eyes peer at her, holding her like she is paper-thin, uncaring if he cuts himself on her edges. She doesn't know what to do with herself anymore. "—why are you doing this to yourself?"

He is so uncharacteristically soft around her and all she wants to do is melt for him. There is a lump lodged somewhere in her throat, a weight sitting on her chest. It hurts. She doesn't even know when she started crying.

Everything about him—

She _hates_ it.

She hates how he is so gentle with her when he is supposed to be mad. He always makes things harder than they already are. He makes it hard for her to say goodbye.

This isn't how it is supposed to go between them. She is supposed to push him away, keep him at arm's length to keep him safe. After the wedding, he is supposed to be so mad at her, so pissed off that he never thinks about her again, mad enough to turn his back on Soul Society and live out the rest of his life as a human until he dies of old age. A perfectly peaceful and mundane existence- the world owes him that much at least.

"Please! I can't—"

"Can't what, Rukia? Can't let yourself be happy? Can't let yourself believe that I love you? Tell me what I need to do to make you believe me, that my love for you is real. I will do anything! Just tell me what it is that you want me to do!"

Her vision blurs. She believes him. That idiot will carve out his own heart if she so much as hints at it. His love for her bleeds and maybe that is what hurts the most for her- to know that even when they both love each other so much, things between them can never be. There is fresh pain from seeing his hurt expression and her heart can't possibly take any more of this.

"I can't watch you get hurt all over again! Yhwach—"

Her voice breaks. She winces, biting at her tongue, chiding herself for already saying too much.

"Is that what you're afraid of, Rukia?"

She turns away, unwilling to let him see this side of her. She is usually so strong, so sure of herself. This moment of vulnerability- to let him see the woman behind the mask of a warrior, it terrifies her.

"Hey look at me."

Ichigo is simultaneously overjoyed and exasperated. His midget is too selfless for her own good. There was never any competition for her love and affection and he thinks, at this moment in time, away from the world and its prying eyes, he can die happy with Rukia in his arms. She loves him back, just as fiercely as he loves her.

She loves him enough to push him away for his own good. But he loves her enough to keep coming back for her.

What a pair they make!

His fingers tap at her chin, kissing her eyelids soft and reverent when she stubbornly keeps her eyes closed. She hears a throaty chuckle from him at her childish antics, but he is undeterred by the slightest as he keeps pressing kisses to her. He wears her down with his persistence, the warmth he exudes as he keeps at the task and when she finally does open her eyes, she finds herself looking into glimmering brown eyes, softer than she has ever beheld them, brimming with hope and newfound wonder.

The relief she feels radiating from him is surreal and golden, as he hugs her tight. She would ask him to stop too if only his giddiness isn't so damn infectious.

"Rukia, I don't give a fuck about Yhwach or his stupid prophecy," he scoffs, "I am not falling for some stupid gimmicky prophecy bullshit!"

Rukia stares wide-eyed at him, stunned by his casual dismissal. She doesn't understand how he is taking the threat so lightly. They barely made it out alive, scraping by the skin of their teeth during their last encounter with the Quincy King. He vowed to come back when they are at their happiest and then their world will end. She can't let that happen to Ichigo.

"You fool! Do you have a death wish? Don't you see? Yhwach will kill us all when he comes back and I can't— I can't let that happen to you! I can't—"

"Stop! Just stop and listen to me for once— I think Yhwach jinxed himself. He vows to come back when we are at our happiest. Well the joke is on him. Because we'll just make sure we make every day happier than the last, to seize the day, carpe diem and whatever. And even if he does come back, years- maybe decades from now, we will be ready for him. We will train hard and there is strength in numbers. I might not be strong enough to seal him away completely, but I bet an army of mini you and me's can finish the job."

She snorts, laughter in her eyes for the first time in days at the way he wiggles his eyebrows at her. Ichigo lets small victories like this rule his day, his own lips twitching in response.

"Rukia, I'm serious. You remember, don't you? Before the final showdown, Urahara said he's leaving it to both of us. You know what a cryptic ass he is. What if this is what he means? That he is leaving it to us to make an army of Kurosaki-Kuchiki babies to combat the threat of Yhwach's return?"

She rolls her eyes, "Stop using the man as an excuse to be perverted. He's rubbing off on you more than you'd think."

He sighs into her hair, mock-pouting, "It was worth a try."

"Yes," her smirk is sly and more than a little teasing, "Your father would be _so_ proud."

" _Urghhh_ , must you bring up that man when I am trying to have an important conversation with you about the fate of the world?"

Rukia giggles at the face he makes as he scowls. Her heart is suddenly lighter- much lighter than it has been in weeks and months. It's like she's finally found her anchor to the world. The two of them together, fingers intertwined.

"No one is ever coming between us again," he hides his face in the crook of her neck, breathing more of her in, wishing never to be apart from her again as he nuzzles against her warmth, "Not Renji, not Byakuya, and definitely not _fucking_ Yhwach!"

Their eyes meet. Ichigo is the first to break as he chokes, slanting his lips to hers, "You are mine."

"What are you? A caveman? I am not an object or someone's property!"

Her brows furrow, somewhat annoyed by how matter-of-factly he sounds as she squirms in his arms. She for one has not consented to anything.

Yet.

"No, but you are mine, just as I am yours."

The sincerity in his eyes humbles her.

She blinks away her tears. They are being so outrageously sentimental and mushy with each other that she thinks her cheeks might be permanently stained pink.

"I want to make you mine. I know that I am a pauper compared to the Kuchikis but I will do everything in my power to make you happy. I—" he blushes, a rare stutter to his words "— I will marry you in a heartbeat if you will have me, Rukia. I want to show everyone that you belong to me. I am yours if you will have me, Rukia. Do you want to be mine too?"

"I-Idiot!"

She hides her smile, burrowing herself into his arms.

"What sort of question is that? I thought we're already a package deal."

He laughs, endearingly boyish and carefree as he wounds his arms around her, pouring his love into her, gripping her tight as they kiss.

She sighs, toes curling at the heat thrumming between their bodies. There is a different edge to the press of lips against each other, a sense of urgency as he tugs at her, restless hands bunching at the front of her kimono. Ichigo is needier, hungrier and bolder as his tongue delves into her mouth, making her moan and gasp as sharp teeth nips at her lower lips and open skin.

Here at the edge of something so profoundly beautiful and deep, at the thought of being connected and tethered to each other until the end of time, Rukia gives in to her wants and simply allows herself to feel, to live and revel in the heat of the moment.

She lets her imagination run wild, indulging in her fantasy of what could have been. If only there had been a wedding today and everything had gone the way that it should have between Ichigo and her. She sees it in her mind's eye. Their eyes soft and shy, smiles bright as they approach the shrine hand in hand, eagerly waiting for the priest to wound their hands together and bid them to sip from each other's cup.

After the party is over, the guests have retired for the night, now it is only them- tired and needy for each other, scarcely able to breathe in the excitement of finally being able to proclaim to the world aloud that she is his and he, hers.

She wants this to be real so badly. She wants to be Ichigo's bride, to wear the shiromuku for him and be stained, dyed and darkened by his love for her.

She wants this to be her wedding night.

The many layers she has are all too heavy to be taken off on her own. She nudges at Ichigo, thankful for the way he catches on as his eyes sear into hers.

She gulps, ignoring the heated stare as she whispers, "The shiromuku belonged to my sister. Rip it, damage it somehow and I _will_ end you."

He grunts but pushes himself off her, breathing nervousness and excitement in equal measures as his hands come to rest on her shoulders, callous fingers teasing at the hem of her outer robes. The pure white uchikake speaks of the opulence of the Kuchiki wealth and the superb craftsmanship afforded by it. Under the dim lights, golden threads shimmer with motifs of swirling clouds and cranes taking flight, auspicious symbols and well wishes for the bride, blessing her and her future family with much prosperity, but Ichigo doesn't have the presence of mind to think more about it as he helps her shrug it off, neatly draping it over the back of a chair.

There is a tremor to her movements as her hands flit to the knot of the obi sash holding her kimono together. Her inhale is sharp and breathy as she tugs at it, letting the sash fall, the front of her robes gapping to show her under-robes.

The kimono slips off her shoulders slowly, setting his teeth on the edge at the way the material seems to glide off her skin, inch by inch. He is there to catch it before it falls off entirely, picking up the fallen sash as he leaves them folded on the side of the draped robe.

Ichigo wills himself to be patient, watching with bated breath as Rukia stands before him, hair wild and mussed, cheeks pink, watching him watching her.

The silken nagajuban is white and translucent, stopping at her knees, hiding little of her figure as she approaches him. He feels like a puppet with his strings cut off, pliable to the extreme as she pushes him down to sit at the foot of the bed.

She draws a sharp noisy breath from him as she moves to straddle him by the waist.

His body feels warm but with the added weight of Rukia on his lap, it's scalding hot from where their skins touch and tease at each other. The arousal he hides under the folds of his hakama strains at his underwear. He is _dying,_ burning from the need to see her bare and touch her naked skin for himself.

"Rukia—"

She pulls at the strings holding her under robes together, parting them for him. Pulling the robes off her shoulders, she lets the silk pool at the floor, leaving herself open to his stare. His mouth goes dry at the reveal of naked skin.

Ichigo's hands fist at his own robes. He doesn't know where to look. Rukia isn't wearing anything underneath it and her panties are the flimsiest pair of cotton under his touch. The tip of her rosy-hued nipples are soft and inviting and his vision trails lower, noting the dip in her waist before giving way to the fullness of her hips. Goosebumps prickle over her exposed skin.

Before he can breathe out his adoration of her, putting into words what he wants to do to her if she will let him, she silences him with a kiss. Her hands eagerly grab at the front of his shihakusho, tugging at the white-coloured himo holding the hakama in place.

"C-Can I?" he breathes against her mouth, breath shuddering as she arches, moulding her molten body to his. She guides his hands to wrap themselves at her hips, urging him to touch her and knead at the softness of her pale flesh.

"Make me yours."

.

He doesn't need to be told twice.

The grip he keeps on her hips tightens, kneading her supple ass, feeling her pleasure as she throws her head back moaning. His eyes darken at the sound, spurred and incited by it to trail kisses down the length of her throat, over her collarbones, to the underside and the valley between her breasts. He nips lightly at heated skin, soothing his bites with licks and tender suckling until the skin glows red and puckered from his teasing.

She gasps, keening as his mouth finds her nipples. He spares a hand to cup at them, marvelling at their softness and the way they fit so perfectly in his hand.

"Ichigooo," she moans, dragging out the syllables of his name as he envelops her buds in his hot mouth, swirling his tongue over the darker-tinged areolas, sucking and nipping at them until they pebble. She arches her back, offering more of herself to him, curling her fingers into his soft hair as she whines for more.

Rukia's exhales are noisy and laboured, hissing when his sharp teeth scrap a little too roughly against her hardened peaks. She pays him back in kind, tugging a little harder than necessary at his hair. He growls, letting his hands wander. Calloused fingers push the thin cotton aside, dipping low into her heat and Rukia's reaction to it is artlessly seductive.

Violet eyes darken, their pupils blown wide as she bucks her hips, his name tumbling out from her lips in broken syllables. He is already hard, but seeing Rukia like this brings out a different side to him. More, he thinks as he spreads her legs wider, delving his clever fingers deeper into her folds to find ways to make her fall apart.

He wants to give her everything he has to offer and he wants everything from her.

He won't settle for anything less.

He curls his fingers, crooking them to rub and press at her throbbing clit, relentlessly pumping into her slick tightness until they are knuckle-deep inside of her. Her eyelids flutter shut, body quivering at the fullness. The breathless moans she makes for him as her walls clench is music to his ears.

"Come for me," he whispers.

The sound of his voice, rough and thick with need and arousal does things to her. She tries to fight against it but there is the pleasure wrought from his hungry mouth to contend with as his breath hits hot and wicked on her taut nipples while his fingers prod and rub at her nub in tandem.

"Stop resisting, Rukia," he whispers as he nips at her ear lobes, "I-I only want to make you feel good. Give in to me."

She screams, body thrashing as she obeys. She spirals out of control, her slickness spilling all over them as she climaxes. Her face burns from the embarrassment at the mess she created when she faces him again but he merely grins. Her core twitches at the sight, juices still gushing out from her pussy when he pulls his fingers out from her.

The stained fingers glisten with wetness and he gives a tentative lick to them, smearing more of her slickness on his lips as he brings them to his mouth to taste. She can feel herself growing wet again as he releases a groan, sucking his fingers clean of her essence before pressing his lips to her.

She almost doesn't recognize herself with the eagerness she shows as she leans into his touch, burying her face into his chest. "You taste _good,_ Rukia. Don't be embarrassed," he chuckles, as his strong arms encircle her waist.

"You are so beautiful," he coos, punctuates each of the words with a press of his lips to her tender breasts as he resumes mouthing at her hot skin.

The feel of his body draped across hers is glorious and the heat sizzling between them from where his skin touches hers makes it a little hard to think and focus. Her mind is still hazy, unable to find her voice or make her protests as he moves, flipping them over so she lies underneath him.

She can't stop herself from reaching out for him, unwilling to be separated from his warmth. He humours her, pressing kisses to the pulse on her inner wrist as he cups at her face. He makes quick work of his clothes, stepping out of them eagerly as his erection peeks, set loose from the confines of clothes and points itself at Rukia.

At the sound of clothes rustling, Rukia leans on her elbows, easing herself up to rest against the headboard and take a better look.

She thinks she might blush if her cheeks aren't already red to the point of combustion. Ichigo is big. His cock is angry red, veiny and wet at the tip. She licks at her lips, startling him when her much smaller hands grasp at his length.

He shudders as she strokes him. She flexes her wrists, moving her hands up and down his shaft, pumping him. The feel of her hands on him is _exquisite_ , more fulfilling than his own left hand ever was. He jerks his hips into her hands, unable to do anything but moan as she plays with him. She giggles, teasing him about how loud he is being but he doesn't even try to talk back, mindless from the haze of pleasure she brings with her touch.

He fists hard at the bedsheets. Her face looms closer, distracting him as her warm breath hits his cock. He burns from the way her violet eyes meet his, fingers wandering as she grows bolder in her exploration. At the touch of her hands cupping and fondling at his balls, he jerks so violently that it made her jump.

His hands cover hers and she shoots him a look of concern, wondering if she did something wrong to upset him.

"Nothing's wrong," he tells her, embarrassment ringing behind his quiet admission as he clears his throat, "I just don't think I um… I will last very long if you keep doing that."

There is a gentle kiss onto her crown as he slides fingers into thick hair to placate her, "Later. I promise you can touch me anyway you want to later, but now—" his breath chokes "—I _need_ to be in you."

He kisses her sweetly on the lips.

"Don't make me beg."

She swallows thickly, allowing him to draw her into his arms again before he settles between her legs. She leans back, spreading her legs wide for him, unable to look away while he coats his cock in her slick, fingers circling her clit again.

He grabs her leg by the ankle, wrapping it around his waist while he sinks himself into her. At the feel of her velvety walls gripping him, he hisses. She is so unbelievably tight and snug against him.

She winces as he fucks into her, nails digging into his back as he stills. Ichigo is fuller and bigger than expected, stretching her out and filling her deeper than just the intrusion of his meaty fingers. She blinks, tears pricking at her eyes as she tries to adjust, accommodating him.

"M-Move," she commands.

"Rukia," he murmurs against her sweaty skin, feeling the tremor in her. Her body shakes as she wraps her arms around him, digging her heels into his back. He groans at the feel of her wet sex clenching around him. His head dips low to lick at the salty trail of sweat rolling down her neck.

"P-Please," she cries out again, louder this time, "I want you—"

The rest of her words are lost in a string of curses and moans as he snaps his hips, his lips finding hers again as they twine and writhe as one.

She finds it hard to breathe, to know or answer to anything beyond the cry of her name- needy and desperate from his lips while his fingers rub at her bundle of nerves. It is instinctive the way she raises her hips to meet his thrusts, the way she moans slack-jawed and wanton, telling him in shuddering breaths to go harder and deeper, to touch her _there._

They are both so _close_.

"Ichigo," she whines at the loss of body heat when he suddenly pulls out from her.

He grunts in response, barely looking away from her pleading eyes as he moves her legs, shifting them higher to drape them over his shoulders. He slams himself back into her.

"Ahhh!"

She bites into his shoulder, incoherent with lust at the pleasure the new angle brings out for them.

"So good," she moans, tugging hard at her own nipples, slapping his fingers away to replace it with her own touch, finer-tuned to her needs and wants as Ichigo's length brushes fuller and deeper against her core. She wants nothing more than to come undone for him.

Ichigo's thrusts turn wilder, rolling his hips harder, bringing them both closer to the edge. His blunt nails dig into the meat of her flesh as he screams her name, his cock twitching in her as spurts of milky white spent spill.

The surge of euphoria that hits her is sudden. But this time, Rukia doesn't fight it. She lets it overwhelm her senses and falls apart with his name on her tongue.

The combined release from them creates a mess on the sheets as they both slump, tired and sweaty but ridiculously giddy from the rush of endorphins. She thinks she can hear humming from the way their reiatsu curl and wrap themselves around each other.

The union is favourable to both her and Shirayuki. She thinks she can feel a little of the yuki-onna's pleasure ringing from worlds away.

Ichigo recovers first, easing himself off of her to avoid crushing her. His warmth is familiar and reassuring by her side and she cuddles against it. She brushes a finger against his warm skin, following the trail of wispy ginger hair until he wretches it away with a growl, sucking noisily at it as she giggles.

"What now?" she asks.

"Now," he nips at the skin of her bare shoulders, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he pulls her close, slipping them both under the covers, "I make good on my promise to you."

Their fingers curl and intertwine.

"We can get married tomorrow. We'll disappear into the living world. We'll get Dad to get Shirayuki back for us, then we get ourselves gigais. Dad gave me his credit card and I was thinking we could go somewhere far far away. I'll bring you anywhere you want to go. There's a bunny island that I'm sure I'll hate myself for bringing up in the future—"

"Hey!"

He grins, "I am only teasing. But I mean it. We can go anywhere. Think of it as an extended honeymoon trip. I want to experience so much of life with you."

Her smile is a little teary-eyed, soft at the edges as she beams, listening to his random musings about where he plans on taking her next.

"I love you," she whispers suddenly, stopping him mid-sentence and she is hopelessly weak for the look he gives her then, the softness in his eyes mirroring hers.

"Ah," he kisses her lips, cheeks flushing, "I love you too."

"You won't regret it?" she asks in a small voice. This is for better or worse, a desertion of her post and vows to Soul Society and Seireitei. They can be prosecuted as traitors if they are ever found. And Ichigo may never be able to see his family and friends ever again.

Is he ready to make this sort of sacrifice for her? For them?

"Are you kidding me? You're the only reason I stuck around for this long, Rukia," he huffs, tucking her stray bang behind her ear, "I don't know about you but I've grown tired of listening to cranky old men telling me what I can and cannot do. I think we deserve a break from them after saving the world, don't you think?"

She rolls her eyes, " _such_ a rebel."

"Oh but you love it anyway."

"But exile—"

"But nothing," he tells her, "I don't care! As long as you are there with me. I couldn't care less about where I am. Old Goat-chin said to trust him for once. He'd take care of things and that's what I plan on doing. I have a good feeling about this. So trust me!"

The kiss he presses to her lips is sweet and brings with it the promise of many more in the nights to come.

Her lips and cheeks hurt from smiling too wide but there is hope that coils itself in her heart of hearts, blossoming so readily from the love she has for him and the love he reciprocates.

Ichigo flicks the light switch off, drowning them both in darkness as he spoons her from behind, wrapping his arm around her waist.

Rukia half-turns, planting a shy kiss to the side of his face as she turns to face him.

In the dark, her voice is a barely audible whisper but Ichigo hears it anyway.

"You didn't kidnap me, Ichigo. We eloped."

He tightens his arms around her.

"Good night, Rukia."

.

.

.

It is the middle of August when Byakuya finally hears word of his sister and the ryoka who abducted her.

Isshin is insufferable as always as he barges in rudely and unannounced into his private studies, interrupting his calligraphy session. He may be older but behaves no better than a puppy, upsetting much of the daily going-ons in the Kuchiki estate as he tears through the front doors. The servants have by now known to recognize the arrival of the older noble and the chaotic presence he brings by the sound of his boisterous laughter and the exaggerated whine of their master's name.

"Byakuya-kun! Have you heard about the happy news?"

Byakuya stills, looking up at the intruder with much disdain as he reluctantly sets his pens and brushes aside.

"No, I have not, Shiba. And I do wish you would stop addressing me without the proper formalities. We are not _that_ close."

His annoyance for the man stems from more than just the abduction of his sister, there is also the theft of the latter's zanpakutou to contend with. Obviously there was no culprit found but anyone with half a brain and the knowledge of the sneaky deviousness of Isshin would know that it was him behind it.

Isshin flippantly waves him off, pretending as though he has heard nothing at all as he ignores the famous Kuchiki glares to settle on the seat across the table from him.

"Oh you do like to joke, Byakuya-kun! But save those chuckles for later, I—" Isshin preens, puffing out his chest, brimming with self-importance "—have happy news to share!"

"And what might that be?"

"My idiot son and third daughter are finally coming home!"

Byakuya stills. His big brotherly senses tingle. Something is not right. With the severity of the boy's crime and the second chance at happiness with his beloved sister, Byakuya thought that he would not hear from either of them until decades later. Surely it is in their best interest to stay far far away from Soul Society and he tells Isshin as much.

The unpleasantness in his gut only grows at the sight of Isshin's furtive smirk.

"They've got no choice but to cut their honeymoon short. Rukia-chan is pregnant!"

The inkwell shatters from the sudden burst of reiatsu from Byakuya. Black ink spills, splattering across the table, blotting into pristine white paper and rendering them unsalvageable.

But Isshin rambles on unperturbed.

"I _know_ how _happy_ you must be to receive the news. I mean— them Shiba genes are really something eh? It certainly didn't take long for my boy to put on the charms and I am sure Rukia-chan must have found him _irresistible._ To think that in nine months' time, I am going to be a grandfather!"

He chortles with laughter, expecting Byakuya to join in to share his joy. The lack of cheer is sobering and finally brings his attention to his in-law's stupor.

"Byakuya-kun," Isshin creeps forward, lightly tapping at the shoulder of the proud man, "Are you alright? I just said I was going to be a g—"

" _Bankai!_ "

" _ **KYAAA!**_ Byakuya-kun! Watch the face, not the face!"

.

.

.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: criminal
> 
> xD
> 
> This verges on crack-fic I know, but may I present my new headcanons? An army of Ichiruki babies is what Urahara means when he says he wants to leave it to Kurosaki and Kuchiki.


End file.
